Only The Beginning
by Cardinal Rose
Summary: At the end of 1996, a car bomb destroys half of Section B. As 1997 dawns, the team rebuilds with familiar faces. In the background, the threat that almost destroyed them all strengthens, plotting a scheme that will take all of Section B's resources to foil. Can Harry Pearce's new team come together in time to stop this threat? Or will it be the end before it begins?
1. Chapter 1

**Authors Note:**

**Hi readers! This is my first ever story. It's been on my hard drive for about eight years and I'm posting finally in order to get inspiration to continue.**

**Apologies if the formatting is off, I'm still working my way around this site.**

**Now, a few quick notes. Yes, I have used characters that canonically didn't appear in the show until much later, but I couldn't resist seeing how they might work together. Yes, this is kind of an AU, but I will try and make everything match up in terms of the big events as much as I can if you all like this enough for me to continue.**

**I am open to any ideas, thoughts and concrit.**

**That said, I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

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Soho, London December 31, 1996

Light snow flurries drifted from fat white clouds, dusting the streets of London like icing sugar. Three men emerged from a small cafe, snow settling on the shoulders of their coats. They looked like nothing more than three twenty-two year old friends out for coffee on a cold winters afternoon. A handsome blonde huddled deeper into his black cashmere coat, leather gloved hands clutching a takeaway cup of coffee. If they cared, passersby would classify him as a young executive, his suit tailored on Savile Row. Beside him, a roguishly handsome Middle Eastern man loped with casual grace. He was bundled in a thick winter coat, scarf around his neck, woolen gloves upon his hands, and black slacks peeking out from the bottom of his knee-length coat. To the passersby, this man would look like he dabbled in stocks in the City, just starting off, destined for good things. The Middle Eastern man eagerly snatched a steaming coffee from the tray their companion carried, brown eyes closing in bliss at the warmth. Their companion was arguably more handsome than the others, not charmingly handsome like the blonde nor roguishly so like the brunette, but classically so. He had pitch black hair and sapphire eyes that could be warm or cold depending on his mood. Out of the three, he seemed the most accustomed to the cold, wearing only jeans, a black silk button down and a black leather jacket. His hands were bare, and his eyes danced with laughter as he watched the reactions of his friends to the warm coffee. This man would be harder to classify for the pedestrians, who would be likely to lump him in the City with his friends. For all three of them, nothing could be further from the truth. In actuality, Adam Carter, Zafar Younis, and Lucas North were Spooks. They were members of MI5's Section B, the Domestic Counterterrorism unit. Adam and Zaf were Junior Case Officers, specialising in the Middle East, while Lucas was a Senior Case Officer whose speciality was in Russia. Their eyes catalogued every pedestrian, shop, car and camera, always on guard despite their casual appearance. As one, they ran across the street, eyes fixed intermittently on a bland white van parked further down the street. They slowed their pace as they reached the pavement, unwilling to draw any unnecessary attention to their destination. Frustration and annoyance sparked in Adam's light blue gaze, breaths puffing in the air before them. "You know this makes no sense, right?" Adam asked his companions, accent hinting towards his Cambridge education. "What kind of terrorist sends us a code knowing we cannot break it?"

"Going out on a limb here, mate, and saying the smart kind" Zaf reported, his accent more London than his cohorts. "I mean, if you were who we are dealing with, would you send us a code that we could break?" He shook his head. "Leave it to the boffins, it's their job to crack these things."

"And in the meantime" Lucas added in his rich voice "we get to spend twenty hour days in a cramped, smelly van to keep an eye on these bastards."

"Join MI5" Adam announced grandly. "Then you too can enjoy the great sense of fulfillment that comes with mind numbing boredom in the service of your country." Lucas rolled his eyes.

"Announce it to the world, why don't you, Adam?"

"I'm going to propose to Fiona" Adam murmured, Zaf and Lucas blinking at the non sequitur. His blue eyes were fixed on the window of a Jewelers, diamonds glistening in the faint winter light. He looked one hundred percent certain. Zaf turned horrified eyes on his best mate.

"Listen, Adam" Zaf began, choosing his words carefully. "I love Fiona, you know I do, but do you really want to tie yourself to one woman for the rest of your life?" Lucas reached back and slapped the back of Zaf's head without pausing in his stride.

"It's about time, mate" he said to Adam. "Fiona's a wonderful woman, and she scares the heck out of Zaf, you'll be lucky to have her."

"Yeah" Zaf grinned cheekily. "She's too good for you."

"Piss off" Adam groaned, shoving Zaf into a lamp post. In the future, they would look back and say that that action saved their lives. The plastic lid of Zaf's coffee slipped, spilling hot brown liquid all over Zaf's black coat. A litany of curses coloured the air blue in front of him, Lucas and Adam doubled over with laughter. Being the more serious out of the trio, Lucas recovered first, retrieving the supplied napkins from the pocket of his leather jacket. Zaf took them with a wry grin, dark eyes sparkling.

"You owe me a new coat" Zaf informed Adam, the blonde sobering from his giggle fit. He glowered, mouth opening to deliver what was doubtlessly going to be a cutting retort. Lucas shot them both a look, nodding significantly towards where the white van was parked. The message was simple; not now, we have work to do. Across the road, a smirking European man caught their eyes, waving smugly at them. They all froze as they recognised him from both their briefing and the long days of surveillance. Horror spread across Lucas's face, his pace increasing as he tried to ignore the cold shivers down his spine. Ten yards away from their goal, the unobtrusive white van exploded into a fireball, shockwaves slamming into the trio with the force of a truck. They were lifted off their feet and thrown twenty yards through the air, Adam and Zaf landing on the bonnet of a blue Peugeot, Lucas on the tarmac beside them. Movements sluggish, Lucas stuggled upright, ears ringing and his entire body pulsing with pain. Shock and adrenaline brought a blessed numbness, Adam helping Zaf upright even as their thoughts forced them onwards.

Sirens sounded in the distance, a crowd already gathered around the gruesome sight. A burned out shell rested where a white van once had, the putrid smell of burned flesh and mechanics heavy in the thick, grey smoke. Above their heads, ash danced with snow, mingling to create an almost beautiful sight. Though it all the three men hobbled onwards, already knowing the truth but needing to see with their own eyes. The majority of their section, four people they knew, worked with, saved and had been saved by, dead. One glimpse of the wreck was all they allowed themselves, already hardened to the sight of burnt corpse, then they hobbled forward. Spooks could never hang around for the aftermath, the cleaners had to deal with this. They had to make the report. Three streets away, Lucas stopped, sapphire eyes shards of ice. White knuckles gripped the handset of a red phonebox, one forefinger punching in the digits of a familiar phone number. "Tolstoy, Sierra Bravo 1976/3498" he growled into the receiver, listening intently as he was connected to the right department.

"Yes?" Lucas slumped in relief at hearing the familiar sophisticated voice.

"Malcolm" he breathed, Adam and Zaf sharing identical looks of relief. "We need cleaners on site. Clowns are en route."

"What happened?" Harry Pearce's voice came over the line next, sharp with concern.

"The _Triad_ happened" Lucas bit out, forcing his legendary calm back over himself. He had to do this, he was the senior agent in the field now. "There was a bomb in the van. We didn't know. Adam, Zaf and I made a coffee run. The van blew up as we were on our way back." A sharp intake of breath came from their Section Head. Lucas hated himself for what he would have to say next. "No survivors."

"Get back here" Harry barked, Lucas recognising his protective boss mode all too well. "Cleaners will be at your location soon." Lucas sounded his agreement, vision greying out as the pavement came up to meet him.

One week later... Thames House, London, MI5 Central HQ

What remained of Section B gathered around the briefing room, grief and anger warring in their eyes. Each was dressed in their Sunday best, just back from the memorial service for the four officers they lost in the bombing. The weather had matched their moods, rain pouring from the sky in thick, wet sheets that hammered down on the pavement. Deep in Thames House, Harry Pearce slammed a fist down on the table, coffee cups rattling from the force of it. "We are going to catch these bastards, and when we do they will regret every life they took from us" Harry vowed, blue eyes colder than even Lucas's. "But to do that" he sighed, looking exhausted "we need a full Section." He straightened his back, every inch the Section Head that was so feared. "So, by order of the Director General of MI5, Zafar Younis, you are hereby promoted to the rank of Case Officer." Zaf bowed his head, for once completely serious. Harry's eyes turned to Adam. "Adam Carter, you rise in rank to Senior Case Officer." Adam murmured something about being honoured. "Lucas, at the moment there's no one I trust more to be my Section Chief. I know you're as motivated as I am to catch these bastards. Find me a good team. Make them trustworthy." Lucas nodded, glancing at the files piled in the middle of the table.

"Consider it done." Harry nodded tightly, leaving the briefing room with the air of a defeated man. He crossed to the Pods and left, already late for a meeting with the Home Secretary; Ian Preston.

"Useless" Zaf pronounced, tossing another folder on to the already overflowing pile.

"Harry hates his guts" Adam grimly chucked another after it, purple circling the once laughing blue eyes.

"Blown too many ops" Zaf added, glancing within another folder. A lone folder sat in the yes pile, the contribution of Malcolm before he left to get back to work. Their resident technical genius had singled out the folder of fellow gadget whiz Colin Wells, an old acquaintance of his from interdepartmental meetings and the MI5 quiz tournament. Lucas turned away from the folder for promising MI6 officer Rosalind Myers and gazed thoughtfully at Colin's file.

"Adam, what was the name of that intelligence analyst Fiona mentioned at Christmas?"

"You mean Fiona's friend?" Adam queried, rubbing his temples. Lucas nodded.

"Ruth" Adam reported. "Ruth Evershed. She's about to be chucked over to GCHQ, waste of good talent according to Fi."

"Right" Lucas hummed, walking over to the whiteboard. He down wrote Colin's name and Ruth's. "Does Fiona like her job?"

"They've got her working the honey jobs, so no" Adam growled, jaw twitching in irritation. Lucas grinned and wrote FIONA CARLTON under Ruth. Adam grinned, finally following Lucas's idea. He nicked the marker from Lucas's hand and scribbled away, the name Tom Quinn following.

"Zoe what's her name!" Zaf yelled excitedly. "Psych department. You know, blue sweater."

"Reynolds" Lucas remembered, thankful of his eidetic memory. "Harry liked her work." Her name went up next. Lucas stepped back and looked at the board. "Gentlemen, we've got ourselves a team."

Nearby in Whitehall, Harry Pearce stood outside the office of the Home Secretary, unaware that his people were amassing the team that would make him and his Section legendary throughout the intelligence community. Although, if Harry had known how his heart was destined to belong to one of them, he might not have battled so hard to get them carte blanche on acquisitions. Romance had no place in the life of the Section Head of Domestic Counterterrorism.

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**Please review, and thank you for taking the time to read.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Authors Note:**

**Hello all! Thank you so much for the views!**

**Honestly I'm a little daunted to post this chapter. This is where it's gets a little more AU.**

**I never expected anyone to read something I wrote and hid on my hard drive so thank you.**

**Final note - there really weren't any linguists in Spooks, so I made one up and added her to the team. And I hated Elisabeta, so she'll be in the series but not in her old role as of yet. (Yes, that means what you think it does, Lucas deserves something happy before Russia- thank you for reading anyway).**

**And now, on with the show...**

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Chapter 2

Lucas North had a headache. And for the first time since being recruited at fourteen, it wasn't Adam Carter, Zafar Younis or Tom Quinn. No. This headache was the cheerfully babbling bespectacled boffin otherwise known as Colin Wells. Wearing a rather fetching striped jumper, the gadetry genius certainly made a lasting impression. However, Lucas currently could not find it in himself to care about bike path congestion or whether or not the Daleks were a vastly underestimated race. Frankly, Lucas would currently be absolutely chuffed never to hear the word dalek again. Honestly, whatever Colin's rather strong feelings on the oversized pepperpots were, Lucas hardly felt that it merited lengthy discussion at eight o'clock in the sodding morning. _"Coffee!"_ Zaf groaned, drawing the word out as he shuffled zombie-like into the kitchenette.

"Get us a cup, would ya?" Adam called, slumping into his chair. "I bloody hate Tuesdays."

"No" Lucas corrected, grateful for the chance to break away from the Dalek Appreciation Society. "What you hate, Adam, is the resultant hangover from foolishly and unsuccessfully trying to drink Zaf, Tom and myself under the table at the Kings Arms last night."

"You keep forgetting that you're a lightweight, Adam" the sophisticated English accent of Tom Quinn announced. The man himself leant against a desk, slate blue eyes twinkling from under his dark hair. A darker skinned man in a red shirt and black trousers stood beside him, looking rather self-conscious. "This is Danny Hunter. He saved my arse in Manchester last year." Lucas nodded once, something told him that Danny was meant to be there. "Danny" Tom introduced. "Meet the other three of the Four Musketeers; Adam Carter, Zafar Younis, and Lucas North."

"Simply spiffing to meet you, old chap" Zaf grinned, falling easily back into his preferred role of clown.

"Don't you have work to do, Zaf?" Lucas asked, resisting the temptation to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Danny, pick a desk. Tom, you too. Harry wants a briefing when everyone is here."

"We're waiting on the girls" Adam supplied, gratefully accepting his coffee from Zaf.

"I take exception at that, Adam" the cut-glass accent of Zoe Reynolds announced, the woman entering the Grid exactly like they remembered her. "Hello Tom, Danny."

"Hi Zoe" Danny grinned, waving a little. Tom merely raised an eyebrow at Lucas.

"Did you choose _anyone_ not from Section E?"

"As a matter of fact, we did" Lucas replied calmly, smiling towards the Pods. An exotically beautiful brunette woman with dark eyes and a glittering diamond on her finger strolled through, Adam smiling like the besotted lovestruck fool he was. "I'm glad you agreed to join us, Fiona" Lucas said, enjoying the sulky look Zaf shot him.

"Counterterrorism is much more enjoyable than counterespionage" Fiona waved a hand. "Thank you for asking me, Lucas. And Ruth too." Lucas flicked his eyes towards the Pods, where a mousy brunette woman stumbled in carrying a small army of boxes and files. Adam hid a smile and counted down from five on his fingers. By the time only one remained, all the boxes were on the floor, Ruth with them. The noise was so great that even Harry looked out of his soundproofed office with a frown. Ruth immediately began babbling apologies while Zaf attempted to help the poor woman to her feet. Being the only one who could get Ruth to stop apologising, Fiona led a quick round of introductions, finishing in time for Harry to do his party trick. His office door slammed open, the sound echoing around the Grid. Harry stormed into the Briefing Room, glaring pointedly at them all to follow him.

"Gotta love Tuesday" Zaf muttered, following their new Section Chief into the room.

Harry kept his flinty gaze on the newcomers to the Grid, lounging in his chair in a fashion that would have had him being yelled at, if Harry wasn't the boss. He shot a brief millisecond of a glance at Lucas, voice dismissive when he spoke. Already testing the newbies. "Bring them up to speed, Lucas." Lucas got to his feet, absently twirling a fountain pen in his hand.

"After a tip-off from our vampiric colleagues at MI6, the Romanian _Triad_ first appeared on our radar. That was six months ago. It took us an embarrassingly long three months to scrape together enough intelligence to suggest that we are dealing with a three pronged adversary. Drugs, weapons, people." Lucas ticked them off on his fingers. "They're being smuggled throughout Europe, the base somewhere here in London." His free hand carded a path through his black hair, the only nervous tick he allowed himself. "Eventually, we narrowed down a location of interest; a launderette in Soho. We had 24/7 surveillance outside the shop, a van." Lucas shook his head, angry that he hadn't seen it coming. "Eight days ago, we received a coded message, sent right here to Thames House. In response to the threat, our former Section Chief, Walter Priest, insisted upon having a full compliment on site. The Romanian _Triad_ planted a bomb on the van. Everyone but Adam, Zaf and I were killed in the resultant explosion." Lucas waited a second for that to sink in, then he strode to the board, where the message and a photo of the bomber were taped up. "Ruth, you're our Intelligence Analyst, can you make anything of this?" Ruth peered up at the message, shaking her head apologetically.

"That's a linguistic code, you need a linguistics expert" Ruth babbled nervously. "If it was Greek or Asian, I could probably do it. You need a linguist."

"Do you know any?" Harry fairly growled, making the poor intelligence analyst wilt back into her seat. Still, there was a steel to her gaze that suggested that she wouldn't back down if she was more settled here.

"Actually" Fiona spoke up. "She does. Don't you Ruth?" Ruth glanced nervously at Harry but nodded once. The look on Fiona's face was comforting and challenging at the same time.

"Yes" Ruth said more confidently. "She went to Oxford with us, a- a friend of ours. In the linguistics pool."

"You have got to be kidding me" Adam groaned, blue eyes comically wide in disbelief. "She's not even twenty-one, Fiona. That's too young for counterterrorism."

"You were fourteen" Fiona replied calmly, not backing down. "She's good, Harry. Really good. If it's a language, she can translate it. I trust her with my life."

"Have Greg on security send her up" Harry ordered. "I want that code cracked. If your friend can do it, consider her the final member of our team."

"Harry" Lucas began, jaw shutting at the fierce glare from his boss. Just what they needed, babysitting duty. He sighed tiredly, falling back into the role of Section Chief like he was born for it. "Colin, Malcolm, go back through the security footage. I want to know where the Gremlin came from, and where he went to. Adam, Zaf, work your contacts. I want to know where the Triad have gone to ground. Tom, work your people in the City, find their money and trace it back to them. Fiona-"

"I share a contact with Kate, we'll get onto him after she cracks your code."

"Right" Lucas coughed, scratching his cheek. "Danny, Zoe, play nice with MI6, I want to know what they haven't told us. I'll check up with the Cleaners. I want to know if we could have done anything about the explosion."

"Torturing yourself isn't going to bring them back, Lucas" Harry said sadly, something he knew all too well.

"No, it won't" Lucas agreed quietly. "But it will give us a chance if this happens again. Especially considering it appears to be _Triad_ MO."

"Get onto it then" Harry instructed. "What are you all waiting for, Royal invitations?!" Harry would forever deny it, but Lucas could've sworn he saw a smile twitch at Harry's lips as they all hurried out.

At a little after eleven (11:11am, precisely, as it would later turn out), the Pods whooshed open and admitted an angel. Long dark blonde hair reached down to the middle of her back, pale blue eyes smiled from gentle features, and the avocado green cashmere sweater and black trousers completed the image perfectly. Briefly, Lucas's inner-Adam accused him of having a concussion, while his inner-Lucas flew the flag of surrender - done for, old boy. She was amazing, she was perfect, she was out of his league. She swept across the Grid until she reached Ruth's desk. "Hiya, Ruthie" she said sweetly. "Can I borrow your phone? Greg wouldn't let me make a call before coming up here." Head buried in a file, Ruth waved her hand towards the phone, the blonde picking it up with an indulgent smile. She looked older than twenty, her eyes suggested a maturity that belied her age. Lucas physically wrenched his gaze back to his notes. Thirty seconds later, Lucas's head wrenched back up beautiful, sweet blonde just graphically threatened the person on the other end of the line with ritual castration, disembowelment, and a food tasting no sane man would ever entertain. Lucas sucked in a breath, instinctively protecting that which she had threatened on the other bloke, Adam looking quizzically at him. It took him longer than Lucas would like to admit to realise that the angel had spoken entirely in Russian. Beautiful, intelligent, his type to a tee, and spoke Russian; Lucas was never going to hear the end of it. The blonde finished her threats and hung up with a sweet farewell, blushing bright red as she caught Lucas's gaze. She looked like she wanted the earth to swallow her up. It was adorable. "You understood every word of that, didn't you?" she asked in flawless Russian. Lucas was proud of himself for realising that straight away. Pathetic, his inner-voice told him pityingly. It still sounded worryingly like Adam.

_"Da"_ Lucas agreed, unable to hide his smile. He switched back to English at her horrified groan. "Lucas North, Section Chief and resident Russian expert."

"Katharina Tietjens" the angel replied, mortified. She seemed to blush even more the more she looked at him. Ruth looked up and muttered something in Greek which only made the poor girl blush more. Still, she raised her chin and smiled gently. "Linguistics expert, case officer. Call me Kate."

"It's a pleasure to meet you" Lucas replied, trying to stop smiling like a bloody idiot. Cheerfulness and dubious sanity wouldn't endear him to his new status. "Fiona tells me that you can translate anything?"

"Afraid so" Kate smiled apologetically. "My brain's just wired like that. People think it's weird, so I'm never asked to stick around." She pushed her hair over her shoulder; it tumbled down in a cascade of gold. "What do you need me to translate, Mr North?"

"Lucas" he insisted. "Please. And follow me." He escorted Kate into the briefing room, showing her the undecipherable message.

"Do you have a pen and paper?" Kate asked, distracted by the message already. Lucas brought her both. Less than ninety seconds later, her already pale face bleached of all colour. "Lucas?" Kate called weakly, Lucas appearing at her side instantly. As did Adam, Zaf and Fiona. "This message, when was it sent?"

"Sixteen days ago" Adam replied grimly. Kate nodded in an almost queasy acquiescence.

"I thought as much. This message says that you have less than a week to stop your investigation into the Triad, or a bomb will take out your entire team. It says that this is your only warning. Stop or else."

_"Yobbanye passatizhe"_ Lucas cursed, scrubbing his hand across his face. Kate looked mildly scandalised. "On New Year's Eve, our entire section besides Harry and Malcolm were in the field. Adam, Zaf and I only survived because of a bloody coffee run."

_"Yoptel-mopsel"_ Kate wholeheartedly agreed, a less crude version of Lucas's own exclamation.

"If any more of those messages come in, can you translate them?" Zaf asked, looking vaguely ill. They were warned, if only they had known beforehand. Kate nodded immediately.

"I should be able to." Fiona glared pointedly at Lucas.

"Then, by order of Harry Pearce, Section Head of MI5 Section B, Domestic Counterterrorism, welcome to the team, Miss Tietjens."

"Thanks" Kate smiled shyly, for the first time looking her age.

"Back to work everyone" Lucas ordered, clapping his hands. "Fiona, you said something about a shared asset?"

"Jumbo Gerry?" Kate realised, looking up at Fiona askance. "Really? Now?" Fiona looked levelly back at her friend.

"He's an untrustworthy little scab, but he won't cross us, not this time."

"Remember what happened last time, Fi?" Kate checked, lowering her voice for all the good it did. Fiona waved an elegant hand.

"Whoever these bastards are, they just killed half a Section, Kate. Jumbo Gerry's our best shot."

Regents Park, London

A typical black London cab pulled up outside Regents Park, depositing its two passengers with a cheery horn blast. The blonde waved after it, while the brunette kept up a mask of impassiveness. "Do you have to be so bloody cheerful all the time?" Fiona asked out of the corner of her mouth. Kate shot her a blinding smile, happiness radiating from every pore.

"It's a beautiful day, Fifi" she beamed, bouncing towards the entrance. "We're working together, all three of us like we always wanted. And frankly" Kate stopped and cast a dark look at her exotic friend. "If I'm going to be forced to deal with Jumbo bloody Gerry, I'm entitled to stay as cheerful as I like."

"That's why he likes you over me" Fiona warned her. "You don't make his balls crawl back up into his abdomen." Kate winced at the imagery.

"That's , uh, creative, Fi."

"I overheard Adam talking to Zaf" Fiona shrugged regally. "Apparently I terrify Zafar." Kate nodded thoughtfully.

"I can see that" she admitted, watching the pigeons flying overhead. "You terrify most men, Fi."

"And you intimidate men, Katie."

"Ha!" Kate scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Adam isn't intimidated by me, nor did Lucas seem to be."

"Lucas is Harry's protege, neither of them are normal." Kate made a face and led the way into the park, Gerry was particular about where they met him and at what time. They sat on their usual bench, postures open and casual. "I hate this" Fiona muttered. "I swear, he thinks we're living in the Cold War era of spycraft."

"From what I've heard, Harry does" Kate shrugged, eyes darting over to the left. "He's here."

"I thought I smelled essence of pub" Fiona muttered, ignoring the Dennis Waterman-esque gentleman that walked towards them.

"'ello, Phoebe, Liz."

"Gerry" Fiona replied curtly.

"Nice to see you again, Gerald" Kate added politely. "How's business?"

"Can't complain, Liz luv, can't complain." Fiona shared a dry look with Kate.

"Now why does that send a shiver of disquiet through my mind?"

"Because you have finely tuned instincts, Phoebe?"

"Oi!"

"Now, now Gerry" Kate chided gently. "We know everything is right with the world when you find something to complain about in your business endeavours." Gerry opened his mouth to protest, but quickly conceded at the frankly murderous glare Fiona was shooting him.

"What do yer wan' ter know?"

"Everything you can tell us about the Romanian _Triad"_ Fiona requested, politely for her. "Up to and most especially including where we can find them now." Gerry paled and shook his head quickly. He turned to Kate, she'd always been the more reasonable of the two. Well, she'd never threatened to shoot him, at least. But the day was young.

"They're bad news. Don't know nuffin' about them, Liz. Gettin' involved with them ain't worth it. I don't."

"You have your finger in every pie in London's underworld, Gerald" Kate pointed out reasonably. "You do deal with them, don't you?"

"They're insane, Lizzy luv" Gerry tried hopefully. "Why would I risk me neck with them?"

"Cut the games, Gerry" Fiona snapped, reaching the end of her tether with their asset. "We know that you know more than you're saying. We want the _Triad,_ and you want us to not shoot you for betraying us with Hillcrest."

"Oh, come on, Pheobe luv" Gerry wheedled, looking a little pasty now. He knew Fiona wasn't playing games. "That were just business. There were no 'ard feelings about that, right Liz?" Kate took her time with her coffee, pretending to mull it over. Fiona wasn't the only one who could have some fun.

"I know there's a mutual distrust between us, Gerry" Kate admitted finally, a reasonable tone to her voice. "That's what makes you such a crucial informant. But what we pay you is a lot of money, even for this game, and our arrangement would cease to be mutually beneficial if you didn't keep up your end of it."

"The _Triad,_ Gerry" Fiona pressed, managing to look relaxed when a pair of joggers ran by. "You give us them, we'll call it even." Their asset carded his hand through his straw-coloured hair, obviously torn. He needed their money (Kate paid well), and couldn't afford to alienate them on this. The only question was whether the Triad scared him more than they did.

"The Empress on Mayfair" Gerry muttered eventually, teeth gritted. "There's a bloke there, classy. Oxbridge type. 'ides 'e's Romanian. 'e's the _Triad's_ Big Cheese. If there's a swanky do at the Empress, he'll be there. It's where 'e does 'is best business. But you dint 'ear it from me, right?"

"Why, Gerry" Fiona said innocently, a hint of malevolence in her gaze. "You never tell us anything."

"Right" Gerry replied, slightly confused. He dipped his head to them and hurried off, leaving Fiona to scrub her hand over her face.

"Harry's going to love this." Kate sighed and glanced over at her friend. She didn't think she had seen Fiona so worried, not since her father had died anyway.

"What aren't you telling me, Fi?"

"Those scumbags were going to kill Adam, and Zaf, and Lucas too" Fiona said so very quietly. "My Adam, and there was nothing I could have done. They fluked it, staying alive. And this man is living it up in Mayfair hotels, and I'm so-" Fiona broke off, carding her hand through her hair in frustration.

"I believe Adam would say, welcome to domestic counterterrorism" Kate opined dryly. "This is our life now, Fifi. It's a bit different than what we imagined when we were five." Startled laughter came from beside her.

"I don't really think 'Supreme Ruler of All The Universe' is an acceptable job aspiration these days, Katie" Fiona offered, smile remaining on her lips.

"Spoilsport" Kate teased, tossing her cup into the bin beside her. "Come on, I suppose we'd better go and report back."

"Why not share the misery?"

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**Thank you for reading.**

**Feedback is always appreciated. Even if you hated it.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Authors Note****:**

**I apologise for the delay in updating, I didn't like the direction I was taking this in, so I had to do some massive rewrites. The beginning I loved though, I couldn't get rid of it.**

**That said, please enjoy this new chapter.**

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Chapter 3

Lucas paced the Grid, feeling a headache coming on. None of his contacts had given him any useable information on the whereabouts of the bloody Gremlin, and to make matters worse, there was nothing they could have done to save their team even if they had known about it beforehand. At times like these, he was tempted to go back in time and punch his MI5 recruiter straight in the face. Make a difference, defend the realm, yeah bloody right. He felt so useless; he was Section Chief, it was his sodding job to protect his team from any eventuality - something made even more important considering the people he was closest to in the world (not counting his dad and his two brothers) were all now members of the Section. Tom stormed back onto the Grid, slate blue eyes blazing. "Lying bloody bastards!" Danny looked up from his paperwork with a wry smile.

"Another wild goose chase, Tom?" Tom threw his keys down on his desk, a rare break in Tom's legendary composure.

"I went all the way to sodding Kent for nothing!"

"I wouldn't go to Kent for anything, let alone nothing" Zaf quipped, fingers disappearing into a bag of crisps. Tom glowered at him, jaw twitching dangerously. Adam's bright blue gaze took the situation in calmly, and then made it worse in typical Adam Carter fashion. Adam strolled over to his best mate and grinned.

"He can't help what you think, Tinkerbell." Zaf mouthed the word 'Tinkerbell' disbelievingly, dark eyes unfathomable.

"Now, now, Princess; there's no need to get sarcy." Lucas rubbed his forehead, just knowing that nothing good was going to happen. As Lucas could have predicted, Adam and Zaf engaged in a full-on brawl in the middle of the Grid, Malcolm barely blinking aside from moving his tea ever so slightly out of their reach. Poor Ruth looked as though she didn't know quite what to make of the duo, or the general antics of the Grid denizens. Lucas of all people knew that Adam and Zaf took a little getting used to. Fortunately, he and Tom were on the same wavelength. Tom grabbed Zaf by the scruff of the neck while Lucas collared Adam quite literally.

"Princess, Tinkerbell" Lucas began deceptively calmly. "You do remember that we're in the middle of rather an important case, and we've got a few new faces we don't want to scare off just yet."

"So" Tom continued, quite cheerfully. "If you both could pack it in, we won't be forced to tell Fiona that you're the reason her two best friends decided to put in for transfers." Adam broke free of Lucas's hold, rolling his shoulders and straightening his suit.

"You have to admit that it broke that godawful tension in here" Adam pointed out, smirking at Zaf. "Although the Princess comment was bang out of line, mate." Zaf poked his tongue out at the blonde unrepentantly.

"You started it."

"Okay, Girls" Lucas interrupted, arms folded and eyebrow raised. "The case. Do any of you actually have anything resembling a lead?"

"Gerry came through" Fiona's voice announced, the woman herself standing just by her desk. "Eventually" she amended, smiling dangerously.

"I cannot believe you two actually went to that untrustworthy sack of arse" Adam said, protectiveness flaring in his eyes. Kate rolled her own amazing eyes.

"Relax, Adam, Gerry's not that bad."

"How many times has he sold the two of you down the river?" Kate crossed her arms and glared, managing to look almost as terrifying as Fiona.

"That's not the point right now, Princess. What matters is we've got a lead." Adam threw his arms up into the air.

"Would everyone stop calling me Princess?!"

"Only when you're not in the field" Lucas smirked, mischief flaring in his eyes. "Meet your new codename. Yours too, Zafar" he added at Zaf's gleeful laugh. Zaf promptly stopped laughing and started scowling.

"New Section, new codenames" Malcolm stated, masterfully ending the argument before it even began.

"I'm not being called bloody Tinkerbell" Zaf pouted, Harry storming out of his office at the comment.

"You started it, you live with it" the Yorkshireman boomed, glaring at the gathered spooks. "I've been called to a JIC meeting. Run down this lead you've found. I want this case closed."

"That's why we're here, Sir" Kate pointed out, Harry doing an almost double take at the sight of her. "Kate Tietjens, Case officer and Linguist." Harry grunted and made for the Pods. All in all, a rousing endorsement for her joining the team.

* * *

Fiona quickly filled them in on their discussion with their asset, ignoring Adam's disapproving glare. Malcolm nodded briskly, already beginning his search into the Empress Mayfair. Colin, the saint that he was, made a run to the coffee shop nearby, coming back with steaming cups full of the Spooks nectar. That left the other spooks to catch up, and in some cases get to know one another from something other than off hand mentions and MI5 gossip. Tom finished telling them about the single disastrous date he'd been on recently, then he turned to their Section Chief. "And what about about you, Lucas?" Tom asked curiously. "How's things with you?"

_"Zaebis"_ Lucas answered sarcastically, Kate snickering into her tea.

"I don't speak Russian, but I'm fairly sure I don't want to know what you said, you sarcastic bastard" Tom informed him primly, his slate blue eyes twinkling.

"We should make that his codename; Sarcastic Bastard" Zaf proposed, grinning like the little shit he was.

"I'm keeping Tolstoy, perks of being Section Chief" Lucas smirked, raising his cup in a highly sarcastic salute to his friend. "And it would just be cruel to make Malcolm anything but Control, Lord knows he won't answer to anything else."

"Thank you, accepted" Malcolm agreed, only the tiny twitch at the corner of his mouth giving his amusement away.

"We didn't have any input in our names, that lot shouldn't either" Adam grumbled petulantly, crossing his arms like a five year old.

"Agreed" Tom said smoothly. "But I ask for the consideration that you both were being irritating little berks and thus deserved awful names. We have not been similarly irritating, and that should be taken into account."

"Masterfully put" Lucas praised, nodding his agreement. "Any ideas for Tom's name?"

"Insufferable prat?" Zaf suggested brightly. "Potato-head?" Tom sniffed blank-faced, and gave Zaf the finger.

"Nobby!" Adam crowed, Tom 'accidentally' catching him on the ear with a hole punch.

"What about Athos?" Danny offered quietly. Lucas and Tom raised their eyebrows at him curiously. "Well, you call yourselves the Four Musketeers, and he's got a very Athos-y vibe about him, yeah?"

"Athos it is" Lucas decided, mischief twinkling in his sapphire eyes. "You do look very Athos-y, mate."

"For that" Tom grumbled, tone light the way only old friends could be. "I'm making Danny's Othello." Fiona cocked a brow, unamused.

"And why the sodding hell would you make him that?"

"He sharked the entirety of Section E by pretending he'd never played Othello before, and then he wiped the floor with all of us" Zoe reported, tone crisp. She ruined the effect by promptly bursting into laughter. "Malcolm, good name for me?"

"Mayfair" the technical head replied calmly. "It's upper-class and important, just like yourself."

"Colin" Zoe continued, pleased with her name. "Lucas said you like Doctor Who. Cyberman." The bespectacled boffin beamed brighter than the sun.

"That. Is. Perfect."

"Ladies left" Adam grinned, sky blue eyes promising mischief. Kate sat back in her chair, smiling gently at her best friends.

"Well, Ruthie's a Classicist and a mother hen, so that's her done. We'll call her Hera" the blonde laughed, ignoring the immediate protest in Greek from the analyst. However, a sparkle quickly returned to her eyes.

"In that case, Fiona's always been a bit tempestuous, so we should call her Tempest." Kate shook her head at the glares passing between Fiona and Ruth, a little worried for her own turn. But, best to rip that plaster off quickly.

"Come on then" she said, making a just give it to me gesture.

"Anything you say, Milady" Fiona smirked, quickly on the receiving end of her own glare.

"I don't know why that of all names, but it's perfect" Adam agreed, his sky blue eyes twinkling.

"Enough about all that" Zoe said, swiftly bringing the fun to an end. "MI6 had nothing new to give us. And, none of my contacts know anything about this Gremlin since he entered the country seven months ago. After that" she shrugged "it's like he disappeared off the face of London."

"Money trail is useless as well" Tom agreed, scowling at the computer monitor on his desk.

"What if we've been led on a wild goose chase and they're not based in London at all?" Danny wondered, perching absently on Zoe's desk. Malcolm shook his head, sharing a glance with Colin.

"No, they're here alright" he assured them. "That Launderette has servers with the kind of security I haven't seen since updating the firewalls here."

"Malcolm's right" Zaf agreed, re-entering the Grid with fresh coffee. "Our Intel was solid. They're in London. They have to be. It's the only place with reliable enough transport alternatives. And a busy enough customs that little things like their criminal enterprises can easily fly under the radar."

"There's no usable Intel?" Ruth asked hopefully, her need for something to work with clear. Lucas shook his head apologetically.

"If the Vampires could get an easy solve on this one, do you really think they would've kicked it over to us?" Silence filled the Grid for a beat, broken by an angry sigh from Adam.

"So, what you're saying is, Jumbo Gerry's intel is the best we have to go on?"

"Yes" Lucas agreed, not bothering to sugar coat it. Adam nodded once, then turned to Kate and Fiona.

"What are our chances that he won't sell you out on this one?"

"About fifty/fifty" Kate shrugged, raising one shoulder elegantly. "It all depends on if the Triad seek him out, and whether or not-"

"Saving his miserable hide from them is more pressing than from us" Fiona finished grimly. "If they go to him directly, were done for. If, however, he's not approached, then we should be in the clear. He's too much of a coward to go looking for trouble." Lucas sighed grimly. Harry was not going to be pleased.

"The Empress Mayfair it is" he stated in resignation. "Malcolm, I don't suppose we have anything useful there?"

"No embedded assets or operatives, if that's what you mean, Lucas" Malcolm replied, busy on his many monitors. Adam swore under his breath, about ready to tear his own hair out. "However" their resident tech stressed the word "I think I might have found our way in."

"Don't keep us in suspense, Malcolm" Zaf drawled, perching on the edge of Zoe's desk. Malcolm shot him a dark look. The Cyber genius hated being interrupted nearly as much as he hated being rushed. Zaf had unwisely done both.

"There is a thirties themed party happening at the Empress tomorrow night" Malcolm announced quietly. "We need people who can actually pull off the thirties look." Lucas caught his meaning and heaved another resigned sigh.

"And fit in at a place like the Empress."


End file.
